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Updated: May 10, 2025
"What are you going to be, Jamesey? A farmer?" said Marsh. "No. I wouldn't be a farmer for the world!..." "But why?" The boy changed his position and faced round to them. "Sure, there's nothin' to do but work from the dawn till the dark," he said, "an' you never get no diversion at all. I'm quaren tired of this place, I can tell you, an' my ma's tired of it too.
He could hear a horse whinnying in its stall ... and as he listened he seemed to see Sheila, as he had seen her on her uncle's farm before he had failed in courage, standing outside the byre with a crock in her hands and a queer, teasing look in her eyes. "You're the quare wee fella!" she was saying, and then, "I like you quaren well!..." He seized the pen again and began to write.
She looked at him for a few seconds, and then the whimsical look that he remembered so well came into her eyes. "D'ye mind the way you wanted to marry me, Henry?" she said. "Yes ... yes! Ha, ha!" "An' now I've this! It's a quaren funny, isn't it?" "Funny?" "Aye, the way things go. I wonder what sort of a child I'd a' had if I'd married you!" "I really don't know!... I'm afraid I must go now!"
"It's quaren late," she said, moving nearer to him. "Yes," he answered. There was a rustle in the trees as the night wind blew through the branches, and they could hear the silken murmur of the corn as it bent before the breeze. Now and then there was a flutter of wings in a hedge as they passed by, and the low murmurs of cattle and sheep came from the fields.
Fightin' an' wranglin' like that! I wish I could get him up here a while. I'd talk to him, an' try an' put some sense into him. Do you think would he come if I was to ask him?" "I daresay, father. Shall I write to him for you?" "Aye, do, Henry. I like that fellow quaren well, an' I'd be sorry if any harm come to him. He's the sort gets into any bother that's about!
I'd take you to England and Scotland and Wales, and then we'd go to France and Spain and Italy and Africa and India and all the places." "I'd be quaren tired goin' to all them places," she murmured. "And then when we'd seen everything, we'd come back to Ireland and start a farm...." She sat up and smiled at him. "An' keep cows an' horses," she said.
He fumbled for words to express his love for her, but could not find any. "Ah, well," she said, "it doesn't matter whether you're pretendin' or not. I'm quaren happy anyway!" She struggled out of his embrace and put her arms round his neck and kissed him. She remained thus with her arms round him and her face close to his, gazing into his eyes as if she were searching for something....
"It's quaren dull in the country," she continued, "an' the classes'll help to pass the time. I wish it was dancin', but!" Dancing! They had not made any arrangements for dancing, though the Gaels were very nimble on their feet. He glanced at Marsh reproachfully. Why had Marsh omitted to revive the Gaelic dances? "Perhaps," he said to Sheila, "we can have dancing classes later on...."
"Ay, poor sowl, I mind him ... the nice-spoken, well-behaved lad he was!..." "Well, I'm going to marry his sister!" "It'll be quaren nice to think o' this house havin' a mistress in it again, an' wee weans, mebbe.
An' she took no interest in nothin' after that ... she could hardly bear to look at you ... an' you her own wee son. She didn't live long after you come, an' mebbe it was as well, for God never made her to contend with anything. I was quaren fond of her. Ye had to like her, she was that helpless.
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